“Yes, yes.”
“A grey powder?”
“Yes.”
“The message that men want to say is: ‘You did not kill us.’”
“Ask them then—ask them—how did they die?” His voice was broken and his great frame was quivering with his emotion.
“They die disease.”
“What disease?”
“New—new.... What that?... Pneumonia.”
Challenger sank back in his chair with an immense sigh of relief. “My God!” he cried, wiping his brow. Then:
“Call in the others, Malone.”